


Divine Intervention

by avesnongrata



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Halloween Costumes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2508470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avesnongrata/pseuds/avesnongrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha rescues Maria from the worst Halloween party of her life, with a little help from an unlikely wingman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justanexercise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanexercise/gifts).



> Based on a tumblr prompt: "Ouija board thinks we should fuck AU" - where Tony rigs all the games

Everyone knows that ΣΙ throws the best Halloween party on campus, but Maria is still having the worst fucking night. It’s bad enough she'd let Sharon talk her into a couple's costume this year, but on top of that they'd gotten into a huge fight on the way to the party. Sharon ended up dumping her and storming out not twenty minutes after they'd arrived. Now she's stuck in this overcrowded frat house - dressed as Xena, Warrior Princess for fuck's sake! - and she's angry, self-conscious, and completely miserable.

At least there’s free booze.

Getting drunk out of her mind probably won’t make her feel any better, but it’s at least worth a try. Maria elbows her way irritably through the crowd, passing Tony Stark and a few other ΣΙ brothers on her way to the drinks table. They’re huddled around a Ouija board, laughing uproariously, and Maria tries her best to go unnoticed while she pours what is probably an unwise amount of cheap liquor into a cup. She is _not_ in the mood to be mocked by these idiots right now.

“Hey, Red! Red!” Tony shouts, trying to get the attention of the woman leaning against the wall next to Maria. She’s dressed in an exceptionally daring Red Sonja costume made of what appears to be mostly soda can tabs. It looks incredible on her, and she clearly knows it.

The woman eventually humors Tony with a beleaguered glance over the red plastic cup in her hand. “What?”

“The Ouija board says you and Xena should fuck.”

 _So much for going unnoticed_. Maria swears under her breath and takes a swig of her drink, trying to formulate an escape plan.

‘Sonja,’ to her credit, only rolls her eyes. “Fuck off, Tony.”

“Come on, at least make out a little. The Ouija Gods demand it!”

Maria grits her teeth, trying hard to ignore all the eyes that are suddenly on her. Sonja ignores them too, choosing instead to talk to Maria in a voice too low for the ΣΙ guys to hear. “Hey, are you okay?” Her voice is kind, concerned. “Ignore him, he's just a drunken asshole.”

Maria shrugs, trying to seem indifferent. “I'm fine. This isn’t the worst thing that's happened to me tonight.”

 “Yeah, I saw you and your Gabrielle screaming at each other outside.” She winces. “Did she dump you?”

“She did, yeah.” Maria scoffs bitterly, glaring into her cup.

“That's rough, I'm sorry.”

Maria can only shrug again in response. The alcohol is already starting to hit her system, and between the buzz and the embarrassment of being singled out in the middle of the party, Maria doesn’t trust herself not to start shouting – or worse: crying – right now.

To Maria’s further humiliation, Sonja seems to notice her struggle. She rests a reassuring hand on Maria’s forearm, thumb brushing lightly against her skin. “Well, look at it this way: you're the one with the costume that stands alone. She's gotta spend the night as Gabrielle. What do you want to bet she's already tired of people asking where her Xena is?” Sonja laughs at the thought.

“That... actually kind of helps. Thanks.”

“Don't mention it,” She slugs Maria amicably on the shoulder, then adds with a small, sympathetic smile, “You're gonna be okay.”

“Oh, yeah! Girl fight! That'd appease the Ouija Gods, too.” Tony jeers at them. Sonja flips him off, but otherwise pays him no attention.

She rolls her eyes again and nudges Maria. “Sorry about Tony. He thinks he can say shit like that to me because he's dating my roommate. I'm sorry he dragged you into it.”

Maria puts two and two together. “Wait, you're roommates with Pepper Potts?”

Sonja grins. “Yeah, have been since sophomore year. How do you know Pepper?”

“She's in my major. We've had a bunch of classes together.”

“Business or Political Science?” Sonja’s eyes flash with genuine curiosity. She tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

A creeping realization makes Maria’s ears start to burn. Playing with her hair, maintaining eye contact, enthusiastically engaging in small talk... _Oh god, is she flirting?_

Maria blinks a few times, quickly regaining her composure enough to answer the question. “Poli Sci. I’m Maria, by the way.”

“Maria Hill?” Her eyebrows rise as she makes the connection. “As in, Vice President of the Student Government Association, Maria Hill?”

Maria hopes she can blame the alcohol for the way her cheeks flush. “Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you. I'm Natasha Romanov.” Sonja – _Natasha_ – reaches out to shake her hand.

The name is definitely familiar. “I've heard of you. You're with the performing arts school, right?”

“Theater and Dance, yeah.”

“Two double majors in one room? It’s a wonder your dorm is still standing,” Maria teases. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, but Natasha is surprisingly easy to flirt with.

“And yet they continue to let us live together.” Natasha’s hips shift ever so slightly closer to Maria’s. Her laugh is infectious, and Maria finds herself grinning despite her earlier terrible mood.

“Now kiss her! Do it for the Ouija Gods!” Tony shouts, pinning the attention of everyone in the room right back on the two of them again.

Yet again, Natasha takes it in stride. “Ugh, what an asshole. Do you want to get out of here?”

Maria crooks an eyebrow. “And go where, exactly?”

“My room? I've got better booze than this party, that's for sure.”

The suggestion catches Maria by surprise, as does her answer. “Uh... yeah, okay.”

Natasha’s eyes flash as she downs the rest of her drink. “Let’s not give these guys the satisfaction of seeing us leave together, though. Meet me out front in 5 minutes?” She doesn’t wait for Maria’s response before turning on her heel and disappearing into the crowd – toward the back of the house, Maria notes – much to the groaning disappointment of Tony and the rest of his ΣΙ buddies.

For a few minutes, Maria remains rooted in place, head spinning. She nurses the remnants of her drink as she tries to make up her mind. She shouldn’t follow Natasha. She knows she shouldn’t. She’s a little drunk – they’re both a little drunk, come to think of it – and besides, it’s far too soon.

On the other hand, _Sharon_ broke up with _her_ , not the other way around. Would anyone really judge her for drunkenly hooking up with someone at a frat’s Halloween party after getting loudly and publicly dumped in front of everyone at said party? She’s getting ahead of herself, of course: Natasha only offered flirtation, good liquor, and a respite from the raucous, costumed crowd. There’s no harm in any of that, is there? Maria throws back the rest of her drink, nose wrinkling at the way the cheap liquor burns in her throat. Yes, good liquor is definitely in order.

Somehow, Maria manages to shove her way to the front door without drawing any more attention to herself. She half-expects Natasha to be nowhere in sight, but she soon catches sight of her standing a little ways off, her breath clouding in front of her in the crisp autumn air. Her bare skin – oh, so much bare skin – is tinged pink from the chill.

Maria raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Not really,” Natasha shrugs.

Maria remains unconvinced. “I’m cold just looking at you.”

Natasha only laughs. “It’s not that far a walk. Come on.”

She takes off across the green, and Maria finds herself jogging a few steps to catch up despite her longer strides. They pass the quick trek across campus to Natasha and Pepper’s dorm in a comfortable silence, but Maria’s stomach starts to tighten into a knot when they pause outside the door.

Natasha pokes her head into her room a bit hesitantly. “Pepper?” There’s no response, so she opens the door the rest of the way and ushers Maria inside. “You can sit down if you’d like,” she offers, gesturing to her side of the room.

“Thanks.” Maria feels a little awkward perching on the edge of Natasha’s narrow bed, but there really aren’t many other places to sit, and neither the desk chair nor the floor seems like a better option. Her eyes roam the room while Natasha rummages in her closet. It seems like an exceptionally large room, but that could just be because it’s far tidier than the average dorm room. Before she can process many of the details, Natasha re-emerges with an expensive-looking bottle of vodka and two glasses.

“Told you I had the good stuff,” she smirks and pours them each a generous amount.

Maria accepts her glass with a grin. “You weren’t kidding. Though, I’m pretty sure anything would be better than the stuff they had at that party.”

Natasha makes a face and laughs in agreement, settling next to Maria on the bed. She wedges her pillow between herself and the wall and reclines back against it.

They’re so very close to one another, and Natasha’s skin looks so soft and inviting, but Maria wills herself to keep her hands wrapped around her glass instead. Natasha hasn’t exactly given her a clear invitation, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’s misinterpreted a situation like this... Maria’s face starts to flush again and she takes a sip to cover for it, the smooth heat in the back of her throat a welcome improvement over her earlier drink.

There’s tension in the silence that stretches out between the two of them, anticipatory but not necessarily uncomfortable. Natasha breaks it first, her voice low.

“I’m sorry you’re having such a rough night.”

“It’s okay, really,” Maria insists, sounding more confident than she feels. “Thank you for rescuing me from that party.”

“You’re welcome.” Natasha shifts even closer and rests a hand on Maria’s knee. “Look, no pressure or anything, but if you want my help forgetting about your ex tonight, I'm amenable.”

Maria’s heart leaps into her throat, pounding wildly. There’s not much to misinterpret about that... She reaches up to cup Natasha’s cheek and leans in, pausing with barely an inch between their lips.

“We wouldn’t want to upset the Ouija Gods, now, would we?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I meant for this fic to be a oneshot. Oops.

There’s an instant, just before their lips meet, when Maria’s stomach jolts as if the floor dropped out from under her, a brief moment of panic as the reality of what’s about to happen strikes home. A second later, Natasha closes the distance between them, effectively wiping Maria’s mind of all coherent thoughts. For the first time all evening, Maria lets herself feel rather than think.

It’s surprisingly easy to do.

The kiss is light, little more than the warm press of Natasha’s lips against Maria’s, but the invitation behind it is clear. Emboldened, Maria deepens the kiss. She slots Natasha’s lower lip between hers, and she’s amazed to feel Natasha’s lips part eagerly in response. Of course, now comes the usual first kiss dilemma: should she use tongue? What about teeth? How much is too much? Or is too little worse? How strongly does her breath smell like liquor--

_No_ , she reminds herself. _No thinking right now._

Maria wills herself to relax as Natasha threads her fingers into her hair and kisses her again and again. It quickly becomes apparent that Natasha is an exceptionally good kisser. Her lips are soft and just a little sweet underneath the lingering bite of the vodka. She seems perfectly content to follow Maria’s lead, matching her touch for touch, breath for breath. It isn’t long before Maria’s head starts to swim, spurred on by the small sounds that catch in the back of Natasha’s throat every time Maria’s teeth graze her lower lip.

When Maria tries to reach for Natasha’s waist, though, Natasha shudders and flinches away from the touch.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Natasha laughs. “Your hands are just a little cold.”

“Sorry!” Mortified, Maria pulls her hands away and rubs them together to warm them up.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind. Here…” Much to Maria’s amazement, Natasha straddles her lap, bracing her thighs on either side of Maria’s hips. She takes both of Maria’s hands in hers, guiding them back to her waist before leaning down to slip her tongue back into Maria’s mouth.

Maria groans into the kiss, heat starting to color her cheeks and pool in her belly. Above her, Natasha hums her approval as Maria lets her hands wander over the lean muscles of Natasha’s back and shoulders. Her costume leaves nearly the entire expanse of smooth, soft skin exposed to Maria’s hands, and Maria takes full advantage of that fact.  She drags her blunt nails down Natasha’s back experimentally, until her fingers catch on the strap of Natasha’s costume. Natasha rewards her with a gasp and a roll of her hips. She breaks the kiss, leaving Maria to catch her breath while she unclasps her top and lets it slip off her shoulders, baring her breasts.

“Oh, wow.” Maria’s mouth is hanging open like a complete idiot, she knows it, but she just can’t help herself. No longer protected from the chill of the room, Natasha’s nipples are already drawing taut and peaked, right before her eyes. For a moment, Maria can only stare, mesmerized.

As if reading her mind, Natasha chuckles warmly. “You can touch me if you want.”

Maria doesn’t need any more encouragement; she trails her fingers up Natasha’s sides and palms at Natasha’s breasts. Her touch is not nearly as graceful as she could have hoped, but Natasha doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. She arches her back into Maria’s hands and sighs happily as her eyes flutter shut.

Somehow, Maria manages to find her voice again. “Are my hands still cold?” she asks, somewhat self-consciously.

“No,” Natasha breathes. “No, they’re perfect.”

“Okay. Good.”

Natasha rocks forward and presses a searing kiss to the spot just below Maria’s ear.

“Don’t leave any marks, okay?” Maria manages to ask between ragged breaths.

“I won’t,” Natasha promises, her tongue gliding across Maria’s pulse point.

Satisfied, Maria tilts her head to give Natasha more room to trail her lips and teeth and tongue along the underside of her jaw. Despite her hands being pinned awkwardly between their bodies, Maria manages to find an angle that allows her to roll her thumb around Natasha’s nipple, coaxing it to harden again. Much to Maria’s delight, Natasha moans breathlessly against her neck, the sound and the heat of her mouth sending electricity crackling through Maria’s body. She shivers and repeats the motion again and again, pausing every so often to turn her attention to Natasha’s other breast or to pinch her nipples gently between her thumb and forefinger.

Far too soon, Natasha pulls away with a gasp. “Can I take your top off?”

Maria’s face flushes at the question, and she shrugs sheepishly. “You can try. It’s kind of an elaborate costume,” she explains by way of an apology.

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” Natasha laughs, climbing off of Maria’s lap – much to Maria’s disappointment.

At Natasha’s prompting, Maria leans forward to give her access to the straps and laces that hold the top of her costume in place. For a moment, she curses Sharon for talking her into wearing the damned thing in the first place, but the stab of guilt and hurt that comes with the thought momentarily drives the air from her lungs. Gritting her teeth, Maria busies herself with the relatively easy task of tugging off her boots, arm bands, and vambraces while Natasha tugs at the laces of her top.

It takes the two of them another few minutes to figure out how to free Maria, just long enough to chase all thoughts of Sharon from Maria’s mind. When Natasha finally tugs the loosened top up over Maria’s head, she tosses it to the floor with a triumphant laugh, and Maria laughs right along with her.

The multi-paneled skirt is significantly easier to unfasten and tug down to the floor, leaving Maria in only her underwear. They’re not even particularly cute underwear, just a pair of plain grey boxer briefs. Maria hadn’t exactly planned on having to impress anyone tonight, a fact she rapidly starts to regret as Natasha makes quick work of stripping out of the rest of her own costume.

Natasha is undeniably and unequivocally gorgeous. Her skin is so very pale, her breasts and hips and thighs dusted with a scant few moles like the ones on her nose and cheek. She has the perfect dancer’s body, lean and toned, with curves like something out of a painting. Everything about her is graceful and beautiful and perfect.

Maria crosses her arms self-consciously over her chest, but she still feels incredibly exposed and woefully inadequate. What’s worse, Natasha instantly notices her insecurity.

“Hey,” she murmurs. “May I touch you?”

Maria nods, faking more confidence than she feels. Her dusky skin is imprinted with crisscrossing red marks left there by the tight corset top of her costume, but Natasha’s fingers trace over them appreciatively, almost reverently. Maria shudders as her hands work their way lower, sweeping over her ribs, her stomach, the handful of stray dark hairs that trail down her lower belly to disappear past the waistband of her underwear. To Maria’s amazement, Natasha’s eyes darken with every touch.

“God, Maria, you are so hot.”

“I… But…” Maria stammers. “Thank you. So are you.” She mentally kicks herself for sounding so tongue-tied and lame.

Natasha only chuckles low in her throat, a warm - if somewhat intimidating - sound. “You’re sweet.” Maria starts to argue indignantly, but Natasha cuts her off. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

This time, it’s Maria’s turn to laugh. “Thank you. I do have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

Natasha merely hums her agreement and shifts closer, bare skin brushing against bare skin, and kisses Maria deeply. Maria’s hands fly instinctively to Natasha’s waist, and just like that, the heat that had been simmering below the surface flares back to life. Maria kisses her back eagerly, over and over until they’re both breathless and every point of contact between them crackles with anticipation.

Maria practically growls in frustration when Natasha pulls away again.

 “I know, I know. Just gimme a second…” Natasha wrinkles her nose and kisses her quickly in apology. With that, she rummages under the bed and resurfaces with a few individually wrapped dental dams and a small bottle of expensive-looking lube.

“Do you want medium or large gloves?” Natasha asks, pulling a storage bin full of boxes of nitrile gloves out from under the bed.

Maria raises an eyebrow. “Uh, I think I wore medium gloves in freshman bio.”

“Do you want ‘em in black, blue, or purple?”

“Uh…”

“What the hell, it’s Halloween, right?” Natasha grabs two pairs of black gloves out of the box and unceremoniously slides the bin back under the bed.

Maria blinks at her, nonplussed. “Where did you get all this stuff?”

“Volunteering for the safer sex education group on campus has its perks,” Natasha grins.

“Is this really necessary?” Maria asks, starting to feel self-conscious again.

Natasha’s smile is patient and kind. “If I had a cock, you'd want me to wear a condom, right?”

Maria nods.

“Same principle. You don't know who else I've slept with. I don't know who else besides Sharon you've slept with. Better safe than sorry, right?” Natasha puts on a pair of gloves and sinks to her knees between Maria's legs.

Maria nods again, but a weight begins to settle on her chest. _Sharon._ Sharon wasn’t her first, of course, but she had been Sharon’s. Even if Sharon was the one to dump her, maybe it'd be better not to burn that bridge before they'd had a chance to cool off and talk it over. She owed her that, at least.

Maria’s heart races. She holds her breath as Natasha kisses her way up the inside of her thigh.

“Just relax. I'll show you how it's done,” Natasha purrs, reaching for the waistband of Maria’s underwear.

“No.”

Natasha sits back on her heels, instantly breaking all points of contact between the two of them. “What’s wrong?” she asks gently, the concern evident in her voice.

“I can’t,” Maria gasps. Her pulse pounds with the effort of keeping her voice even, but it’s a losing battle. “I don’t… It’s not fair…”

Natasha puts two and two together and gets up off the floor, perching on the bed next to her. “Oh, Maria, I-“

“I’m sorry.” Maria squeezes her eyes shut and draws her knees up to her chest, curling in on herself. “I want to, I do, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, hey, it’s okay. I understand.” Natasha quickly tugs off her gloves, then reaches out to place a hand tentatively between Maria’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry.” The words just keep tumbling out of Maria’s mouth despite her best efforts, until her shoulders finally sag in defeat. “I should go.”

“You don’t have to.”

Maria only stares at her, at a loss for words, so Natasha continues.

“Your roommates are probably still out partying, right?”

“Actually, I have a single,” Maria argues, halfheartedly.

Natasha smiles sympathetically. “All the more reason for you to stay here. You shouldn’t have to be alone tonight. Stay.”

Maria remains unconvinced, but Natasha insists.

“How about this,” she proposes, getting up and digging around in the top drawer of her dresser. She re-emerges with a t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, a hooded sweatshirt, and a reusable shopping bag. “Put those on. I’ll put your costume in here so you can carry it across campus without anyone knowing. Nothing else has to happen tonight. You can leave whenever you want,” Natasha promises, then adds with a small smile, “but I’d like it if you’d stay. For the Ouija Gods?”

Maria laughs despite herself. After another moment of hesitation, she takes the bundle of clothes from Natasha and puts on the shirt and sweatpants. She considers putting on the sweatshirt, too, but she eventually decides she’s warm and safe enough without it. She sets it aside and picks up her half-finished glass of vodka, downing the last mouthful in one swallow. Now that she’s calmed down a bit, she ventures a glance at Natasha, feeling a little foolish.

“I really am sorry,” she insists softly.

Natasha dismisses her with a small shrug as she pulls a tank top over her head. “You don’t need to apologize. Really. I just wanted to help you feel better.” She tugs on a pair of shorts for good measure, then climbs back onto the bed next to Maria.

Maria draws a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, and then lets it go slowly.

“Thank you for rescuing me from that party.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

Maria bites her lower lip and throws Natasha a sidelong glance. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Of course,” Natasha smiles warmly and wraps an arm around Maria’s waist.

Maria brushes her lips over Natasha’s once, then again, and again. After a few minutes, Natasha pulls away just long enough to switch off the lamp on her desk, and then it doesn’t take much coaxing for Maria to lie down next to her on the narrow dorm room bed. Somehow, once Natasha pulls the covers up over the two of them, Maria feels safe, even though she’s wedged between Natasha and the wall. Natasha’s lips are warm and reassuring against hers, their limbs manage to twine together comfortably, and it isn’t long before they both drift off to sleep.


End file.
